Going Back
by mallorysmannequin
Summary: Katniss and Peeta are both back in 12 trying to mend their relationship. Lemon warning!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first Hunger Games fanfiction, and I'm terrified to publish it! I know this has been done over and over and over but I can't help it. This has been on my mind for a while now and it just won't leave my brain! I hope my characters aren't too OOC. **

**Thank you so much for reading!**

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><p>District 12 has changed, like we all knew it would. After the rebellion, I moved back to the only place I knew as home, no matter if I was alone or not. I knew I could make it. A few weeks later when Peeta showed up and planted those Primroses along the edge of my house, I knew I had made the right decision. As I watched him out the window, he looked older than he was. Much older. But so did I. Didn't we all? I continued to watch him and though he looked older, he still had a sense of innocence about him that the Capitol and Snow couldn't take away from him. His blonde hair was still unruly and bright, his eyes still the same shade as the sky. His jaw was harder, more defined and his skin was marred by burn scars and battle wounds. To me, it just made him more beautiful. He was now much more than <em>the boy with the bread. <em>

It took a few more weeks before he spoke to me. I would wake up with bread on my kitchen table, but never a note, never him. Greasy Sae came over twice a day, trying to encourage me to speak with Peeta, but I couldn't. I knew I loved him so much, but the fact he wasn't speaking to me or seeking me out made it unthinkable to speak to him first. The first day he spoke to me, he didn't speak at all. I was on my way into town just to walk somewhere because I was tired of the emptiness of my house. He must have been on his way home from the bakery because he was carrying a canvas bag full of what looked like loaves of bread. I stopped in the middle of the road and stared at him. I just couldn't help it. He nodded his head in acknowledgement and the only thing I could think to do was a matching gesture. I wish I knew what to say to him. He continued on his way and I decided I didn't want to see the town anymore. I wanted familiarity and headed to the woods.

Early Summer had begun and it began to get hot. I could tell this Summer was going to be one of the hottest Summers we had ever had. The flowers began to die, the grass wilted. After a small lunch, I began to work on the Memory Book I had started when I got home from District 13. Today I decide to write about Prim; her childhood, what she wanted to do with her life, what she loved most. It was the first time I had cried in a long time. I felt better afterward and I decided to open the back door to let some air in.

An hour or two later, there was an awful racket outside. I began to shake, thinking the worst. After a few minutes, I realize I'm overreacting. _I'm safe, I'm fine, I'm at home in District 12. _I hear yelling from the yard and stumble to the window. It's all I can do not to laugh at Haymitch, chasing his geese through his, mine and Peeta's yards.

"You damned geese! Get back in your pen!" Haymitch is running, trying to coral the geese back to their homes and they're honking right back at him. I feel bad not going out to help Haymitch, but it's just too much fun to watch him.

Peeta must have heard the racket because the next thing I know, Peeta is running around with Haymitch, trying to catch every goose that is outsmarting them. It looks as if Haymitch has given up and let Peeta take the reins because most of the geese have returned to their designated home. There is always one goose, though, that causes the most trouble. Haymitch has named him; Jerry, Jeffery, Johnny, something like that, but this goose isn't cooperating whatsoever. It runs through the backyard and through my door before I can do anything about it. Peeta runs after it without realizing where he is going. As soon as he is through the door, he freezes. His blue eyes catch mine and he stops, the goose momentarily forgotten.

We both begin to speak at the same time. "Hi," we both say, until we hear a horrible ripping and squawking from the living room. My heart sinks. _The book. _Peeta and I take off for the room, where the goose has most definitely ripped the book up, but Peeta finally has caught the damned bird. Haymitch's heavy footsteps bound through the kitchen and into the living room. He's mostly sober, but he hasn't changed clothes in a few days, and he smells.

"Good job, kid. You caught Jefferson." _So I was wrong about the name. Who's ever heard of a goose called Jefferson? _Haymitch takes the unfortunate bird away and stumbles out without saying goodbye. It is when he is finally out the door that I begin to cry. Peeta looks stricken, like he doesn't know whether to run or stay. I sink down in front of my table and hold up the ripped pages. Most of the book is fine, it's just the first pages that are ruined. I sniff and Peeta clears his throat.

"Are you alright?" he asks, hesitantly. I want to say yes, but that's a lie, and Peeta and I have lied to each other enough.

"No," I reply. "I'm not." I stay on the floor.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No. Please stay." I'm desperate for human comfort, but mostly just for Peeta.

He sits on the couch, a few feet away from me. "May I ask you what that is?" I explain the book, what is means to me, how I feel now that's it's partially ruined. He looks at me for a few seconds before I realize I must look a mess, but I can't find myself to care.

"What?" I hiccup, wiping my nose on the back of my arm, not even caring that it's disgusting. At least I'm no Haymitch.

"Nothing," he murmurs. "Do you mind if I look through it?" I shake my head no, and that's when an idea strikes.

"Help me with it."

"What?" He looks up from the pages of the book.

"You can help me with the book. Draw, write, whatever. Just help me with it."

"I don't know." I don't want to be reduced to begging, but I realize at this moment just how much I miss Peeta in my life.

"Please, Peeta?" It takes a few seconds for him to reply.

"Okay."

We settle into a comfortable routine. He still leaves bread most mornings, and after dinner, he comes over to work on the book. One day, on a particularly rough day, everything sets me off. It's no one's fault, no one does anything wrong. It's just one of those days where everything is wrong and I can't stand it and it makes me angry. So when Peeta is sitting beside me on the floor drawing a sketch of Finnick, I realize my handwriting is too messy to read. I snap. I rip up the page I had been working on and Peeta is still trying not to look at me. This makes me more angry, so I turn on Peeta.

"Why did it take you so long to talk to me?"

"When?" he asks, still not looking at me.

"When we got home. You didn't talk to me for weeks. You didn't even look at me. That day when you were walking home from the bakery, all you did was nod at me."

He doesn't answer and I'm only slightly worried about setting him off. He takes a deep breath.

"You didn't talk to me either."

"You didn't want me to."

"Would you have even spoken to me if Haymitch's goose hadn't come running through my door?" Again, he doesn't respond. I feel guilt nagging me about jumping all over him for something that isn't his fault, but I can't get myself to care.

"Katniss, please, I don't want to argue with you."

"Why. Didn't. You. Speak. To. Me?" I ask through gritted teeth. I stay seated but Peeta stands, making me fully aware of his height and how much bigger he is than me. I wait for him to blow up, but he doesn't. He just pinches the bridge of his nose and I stand. "I waited every day for you to speak to me. I woke up every morning hoping you would be downstairs, or even just leave a note next to the bread, but it never happened." I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it's not helping. "I would have sought you out, but I couldn't. You made it seem like you didn't want me. You didn't. You don't. Tell me, would you be here right now if I hadn't of almost begged to you stay?"

"Don't say I didn't want you. Don't say things like that. You don't know."

"Then let me know," I counter. "I want to know." Peeta takes a deep breath and I think maybe he's going to explain.

"I think I should go," he says instead. "I'll see you around." He walks past me, and I try to follow, but I realize it won't go any good. I can't stop him. The back door slams shut after him.

I don't see him for the next few days, and it eats me up. I don't sleep, I don't eat. I go through the motions of life. I try to work on the book, but it's no use. While I'm lying in bed, watching out the window at Peeta's house, I hear a crash. And then a bang. And another crash. I'm up and in my shoes before I can even think about what I'm doing.

I don't knock on the door; I think we're past that. I call up the stairs. "Peeta?" There is no answer. As I get further up the stairs, the bangs get louder. "Peeta?" I call again. The bangs and crashes stop, and the house becomes eerily silent. I stand outside what I assume is his door and softly say his name.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, and I hear the lock click into place.

"I heard banging around. I was afraid you were in trouble. Will you let me in?" I feel his weight press against the door, but it doesn't open, nor does it unlock.

"No. That's not a good idea."

"I just want to see if you're okay. Please let me in." It's so quiet I can hear him breathing. "Peeta…" I begin, but I don't know what to say so I stop. I sit for a few minutes before I begin again.

"Peeta, I'm so sorry for the other night. I don't know what came over me. I know you would have talked to me eventually. We all need time. You know I have no patience. You've always been the one with patience. I didn't mean to accuse you of not wanting to see me. I didn't mean it." His breathing has evened out on the other side of the door and I almost think he's fallen asleep.

"You talk to me when you're ready, but I really wish you would open the door. I just want to help you. I'm trying so hard to put myself back together and I, well; I just can't do that without you." He hasn't made any noise since I've began speaking so I can only hope he's still alright and listening to me. "I hope you're alright and I just really want to help us move back to what we were. But this, tonight, this past few days, they've helped me realize what I've known all along, I think." I take a deep breath and I finally hear the door being unlocked, but I don't move to open the door. "I need you. I need you like I've never needed anything in my life and that's completely terrifying." Usually I'm not good with words, but they just keep tumbling out. "I love you. I do. I really do. And when you came back to 13 and you weren't _you, _and Snow tried to use you against me, I broke. And I'm still broken. We both are, and I think we need each other to get back to normal." I take a deep breath. "I love you, Peeta." The door doesn't open and I don't move to open it. I've pushed him enough, I feel like. He'll come around when he's ready. I stay seated in front of his bedroom door.

A few hours later, I wake up in a bed that isn't mine. The sheets feel different and the blanket is lighter. I turn over into a chest that is definitely Peeta. I've slept in a bed with him enough to know. I look up and he is looking down at me. It may be the middle of the night, but with us, that doesn't mean anything.

"You're not sleeping." I feel like it's the only thing I can say that's neutral.

"I can't. I've tried for the last few hours."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

"I'm sorry I left your house the other day. As soon as I walked out, I wanted to run back in, but I just couldn't. I was embarrassed." His jaw tenses and I feel awful again.

"I'm sorry I started it." He smiles sadly.

"No, don't be, please. I'm almost glad you did. Would you have said those things to me before if you hadn't?" I feel my cheeks burn and I shake my head.

"I'm just really afraid of losing control and hurting you again."

"Peeta, I don't think you could hurt me. You've come a long way."

"You don't know that, though. I hurt you once, and it's all I think about when I see you. It hurts so much to know what I've done, what I've thought about doing to you."

"I may not know it for sure, but neither do you. We don't know anything for sure, except that we're here and we have each other. We have to move forward eventually, don't we?" I hesitantly reach up to brush the blonde curls out of his face, as I have done so many times before. Peeta leans into my touch and I smile as his eyes close.

"Did you mean all that you said earlier?" I have to hold back from laughing because that's such a ridiculous question.

"Of course I did. I just wanted you to know." He smiles, but this time, there are no traces of sadness.

"I love you, too." He moves closer to me, stopping just centimeters from my lips. I desperately want to kiss him so I close the last little bit of space between us. My world stops because he feels just as he did so many times before. He pulls back, but I chase his lips again. He kisses me a few times before he chuckles and pulls back. "Wait." I scowl before I can think about it. He rolls us so I am under him, but his arms bear his weight. He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my chin and finally my nose. "I love you," he says again, "Always," he murmurs before he kisses my lips again. I thread my hands through his hair and try and stifle a moan when he finds the _perfect _spot on my neck. There is a fire in my stomach that I have only felt one other time in my life, and that was on a beach during the Quarter Quell. But now, now that we are alone and in Peeta's house, it seems multiplied and I can't help but to push my hips into his.

I'm not really sure what I'm doing, but Peeta responds and grinds back down into me. My hands seek the hem of the t-shirt he is wearing, and as I run my hands around the expanse of his chest, he groans into my neck. His fingers brush my breasts over my shirt and I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling out. This is like nothing I've done before.

"Katniss…" I can only manage a hum in response to my name. "We need to stop." I feel let down and disappointed, but Peeta doesn't take his hands off of me, just moves them to my waist instead. "I'm not saying I don't want you, because that isn't true. I do, and you know that. But we're not ready." He kisses my cheek and my lips again and I let my hands slip from his shirt because I know he is right.

**Thank you so much for reading and I hope that you all enjoyed it. The second part will be up sometime this week. I love reviews, but please don't be too harsh!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! Well, I originally intended for this story to be a twoshot, but it kind of took on a mind of it's own, so it will have three chapters. **

**Yes, this is the chapter where the M rating comes into play. It is my first lemon, so I hope it's alright.**

**Thanks SO much for reading! Also, to those who did review, I know I haven't responded, but it's not letting me, so a big thanks to you for reviewing!  
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><p>When I wake up, I'm on my stomach with my head under a pillow and my leg is hanging off the edge of the bed. It takes me a moment to remember where I am and the all too familiar feeling of panic sets in. I calm down when I lift my head up and see a blonde head on the pillow next to me, and an arm lazily strewn over my back. The sun is coming in the window brightly and I duck my head back down. I try and fall back asleep for a few minutes until I realize I'm too awake for that.<p>

I turn over, and finally look around Peeta's room and see it has been almost destroyed. I guess this is where the bangs and crashes came from last night. A lamp is on the floor by the door, sketch pages are carelessly thrown about, and paint is splashed carelessly onto the walls. There are some cracks and slight holes in the walls and I can only assume Peeta has thrown his fists through the walls. I reach for the hand that is now on my stomach and see that his knuckles are bruised and cut up; smears of blood have dried on the back of his hands and I wipe my thumb across them to try and erase the marks. Peeta jerks awake.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'alright," he replies, sleepily. "I was having a nightmare anyway, so I'm glad you woke me up."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He rubs the hand I'm not holding over his face and sighs. "They're all the same. The dreams are just what they used to be; losing you, just… in worse ways. Instead of someone taking you from me, I'm the one who's taking you away. It's like no matter how hard I try not to, I can't stop." His eyes are intently focused on our intertwined fingers and he finally looks up at me. "I wish I didn't dream."

"I'm sorry. I wish I would have known you were dreaming. I would have woken you up sooner." He smiles and strokes my cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Don't worry about it. It's so much easier waking up and realizing you're here, with me, alive." Peeta kisses the back of my hand and I can't help but smile. I know matter what he has endured, my Peeta will always come back to me. He looks around his room and frowns. "I sure made a mess, didn't I?"

"We should probably clean it up." I move to get off the bed, but Peeta grabs me before I can get up.

"Wait," he says. "I just want to sit here for a few minutes. It's been so long since I've gotten to hold you." I look at him and I realize that he's right. It's already a few hours passed when I usually wake up, so I'm not really missing anything. I climb back to where I was sitting. Peeta props up against the headboard and I lean my head against his chest. He wraps his arms around me and we sit in silence for the next few minutes until I become too restless to hold still. I sit up on my knees and smirk.

"Are we going to sit in bed all day, Peeta?"

"Well, I can't say I would object." My smirk blossoms into a smile because it's almost impossible not to.

"We need to clean up. I need to hunt. I haven't in a few days. I want to work on the book."

He pulls me forward I end up straddling his waist, with his hands on each of my hips. He grins at me, showing me that is really is the same boy I fell in love with the Victory Tour. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Peeta. I'm sure."

I finally pull Peeta to his feet and we begin to clean up the disastrous room. When I pick up pieces of paper that have drawings on them, Peeta quickly takes them from me.

"Don't worry about those. I'll get them." I don't want to push him, but I'm curious what he's been drawing.

"Why?"

"They're awful sketches. Things you shouldn't have to see." I pick up a partially ripped one from my beside my foot and carefully try and straighten the pages. Peeta doesn't move to take the paper from my hands, so I continue to look at it. It's obviously supposed to be me, but I've been drawn to be something terrible and awful. My hands are claws, my teeth jagged. I've been made into a mutt and it makes me hurt to look at it. I ball the paper back up and toss into the trash bag Peeta has brought into the room.

"I told you not to look."

"You know I don't listen."

"I don't see you like that anymore. I haven't for a while now."

"I know," I reply. "It's alright."

We continue to clean until everything is swept up and thrown away. The walls can't be repaired right now, so Peeta sits on the edge of the bed while I sit against the wall. Even though last night happened, the awkwardness and tension has set back in and it's like neither of us knows what to say. I look out the window and I can tell by the sun it must be almost three in the afternoon.

"I need to go hunting." I say, standing up to leave. Peeta holds his arms out for and I walk to him. I put my arms around him and lock my fingers around his neck. He brushes the hair that has fallen out of my braid behind my ear and one corner of this mouth lifts up.

"Are you coming to eat dinner with me tonight?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Work on the book?"

"Definitely." He leans up to press his lips against mine, softly at first, then more persistent. I know I need to get going; I told Greasy Sae I would bring her some game, and some of the families that have moved back to 12 need meat as well, but I just can't pull away from him.

He separates himself from me, smiling. "I'll see you later, Katniss." I touch his face before I leave him sitting on his bed.

Peeta keeps good on his word and comes for dinner, keeping the conversation lively and keeping Sae's granddaughter happy. While I watch him draw a dog for the little girl, I can't help but feel my heart sink a little bit. Peeta is sure to want children one day. He's the youngest of his family, he must have wanted a younger sibling to have around. _Children. Babies. That's something I don't think I can do. _Peeta notices that I've been staring at him, and he looks up at me before looking back down at his drawing. Sae leaves and Peeta and I move into the living room, where the book is left from our fight a few nights ago. He sits down and pats his lap. I raise an eyebrow.

"Won't that make drawing a little hard?"

"We'll work it out." Peeta doesn't draw tonight; instead he just watches me write paragraph after paragraph. It doesn't even matter to me, I'm just thankful he's here. I work until the light is too dim to see and have to stop. It can't be too late, though, because the sun is just beginning to set. That's why I like Summer. The days are long, and the night comes later. It keeps the nightmares away. Peeta rests his chin on my shoulder.

"Can we go sit outside? It looks so nice."

"Sure." I stand and grab a light blanket from the closet and we move to my front porch to sit on a swing. Peeta pulls me into his lap and I look out over the few houses in the Village. Crickets are chirping and frogs are croaking and I can't help but think this is how it is supposed to be. Sort of. Prim should be here. My father, mother, even Gale. They have all been taken from me in one way or another. Prim, by accident but no less heartbreaking; the same with my father. My mother who was too weak to face the ghosts of 12. Gale, turned by his anger and hatred, moved to District 2. At least I have Peeta, and even Haymitch; we are some patchwork puzzle brought together by tragedy. Peeta pulls the tie out of the end of my braid and weaves his fingers through the now loose waves.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks me, and I wonder if he's thinking the same things as me.

"To be honest? How we are alone here. Have you thought about it? It's you, it's me, Haymitch. We're all each other have left."

He continues to run his hands through my hair. "I try not to think about it like that. I try not to think about it at all. We're not alone. You have me. Haymitch has us. And I have you, which is what I think about most often. You are the one that keeps me here. You know that, right?"

"Yes," I say, and smile. I lace my fingers through his. "I know that."

The days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months. Peeta and I have found where we want to be. He has moved into my house, but he uses his for baking on occasion when he doesn't feel like traveling to town. I am usually the first one awake, and I wake Peeta by kissing his cheeks and then his lips until he wakes up Sometimes he is grumpy, but it doesn't take a lot to make him happy again. I leave to hunt and he goes to bake, or draw, or whatever keeps him busy until I return. Greasy Sae has stopped coming by to bring breakfast and dinner, Peeta usually handles that now because we both know what an awful a cook I am. After dinner, we work on the book. It's almost finished, and sometimes even Haymitch stumbles in to work on it with us; to share his own memories. It's been rough, getting to where we are now, but I don't think I would change it.

Tonight we go to bed late, we got caught up watching an old movie that was being shown on the television. It's rare that we watch it, but sometimes we turn it on. Tonight, in our room, the atmosphere is different. I don't know if it's the summer air or the pent up energy we have, but the air seems charged.

I pull off the jeans I had been wearing, and pull on an over-sized shirt on. I don't bother to be modest. I climb into the middle of the bed and sit cross legged. Peeta smiles at me as he lifts his shirt over his head and moves to grab another one. As he starts to pull it over his head, I mutter "don't." He stops and looks at me quizzically. I've slept without pants on before, but my shirt was long enough to cover everything. He's never slept in anything less than a t-shirt and his shorts. "Alright," he says, and puts the shirt back in his dresser.

He climbs into bed and holds his arms out for me to climb into. I look up at him and lean up to kiss him. He responds eagerly and after a few minutes of innocent kisses, I feel his tongue trace the seam of my lips. I open my mouth we battle for dominance, which he wins. I wind myself on top of him and move my lips from his, down to his jaw. I find his pulse point, and suck gently, leaving a small spot. In my mind I feel proud; I already know Peeta is mine, but I now have marked him as such, as awful as that sounds.

I kiss down his chest, making sure to pay attention to every scar, making sure I kiss every single one of them. I feel his fingers in my hair, and he pulls me back up to kiss his lips. He gently flips us so he is on top of me, looking excited and nervous, but beautiful. He looks like my Peeta. He searches for the hem of my shirt and looks up at me. "Alright?" he asks. I nod my head. He pulls the shirt over my head, and exhales sharply. He stares at me for a while and I instinctively move to cover my chest, but Peeta catches my arms before I can.

"Don't hide. You're beautiful." I can feel my cheeks burn as he moves to attach his lips to my neck, and I feel his hands work his way up my torso and on my breast. His lips move to replace his hands and I feel my nipple harden with the talent I never knew he had. It feels so good that I can't help but moan. Peeta moves down my stomach, stopping right before he gets to my underwear.

"Can I?" I think I've lost the ability to speak so I just nod. He pulls them off gently, and I snap my eyes shut because I think I might die of embarrassment. No one has ever seen me like this before, except for my Prep Team and Cinna, but that's different; I cold separate myself from that and it wasn't personal. I keep my eyes shut until I feel Peeta kissing my calves and then my thighs, and when he gets to _that _area, I sit up entirely too fast. Peeta pulls back and looks at me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to pull my legs shut, but it's proving difficult when Peeta is still between them.

"I just really wanted to taste you, I don't know. It's just something I wanted to do. Do you mind?"

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"No, I don't, not really. But I have…had older brothers. I just want to try it. Can I please? If you don't like it, I'll stop." I weigh what he's asking, but I decide to let him go for it. Peeta wouldn't do anything I didn't really want. He continues doing what he was doing before, and I try and concentrate on the feeling of him between my legs. This, _this, _well, I guess Peeta is really good at it because it's not long before I've got my eyes screwed shut and I'm seeing white all over and trying to hold composure.

I see him wipe his mouth on the back of his hand before kissing back up my body. I reach to kiss him first and he grins. "Hi," he says.

"Hi," I giggle. I realize it's been a long time since I've giggled. I continue to kiss him and I can feel him hard against my stomach. I pull back and look at him. "I'm ready." I say, and I know that I am telling the complete truth.

"Oh, you're, you're…okay." I move my hands down to pull his boxers down. "I'll try not to hurt you."

"It's going to be okay." _I have felt much worse things. _He pushes in, and I realize I'm correct. It's uncomfortable at first, a pressure I don't expect, but it doesn't hurt like I thought it would. Peeta holds still for a moment, and I push my hips up to get him to move. "You can move now," I say, kissing his lips. He rocks his hips forward and a new feeling is brought to the surface, it feels amazing. After a few thrusts, he begins to move faster and I tangle my hands into his hair. I can tell he's holding back and trying to move slowly, but he's beginning to lose his rhythm.

"I'm sorry," he says into my ear.

"It's okay," I reply, kissing him again. He sort of whimpers against my ear and goes still. I smile against his shoulder, hoping to feel this happy all the time.

"You didn't…" he begins.

"It's okay," I say again. "I did earlier. And I don't think many girls do their first time."

"I really wanted you to," he says, pushing the dampened hair off my forehead. I kiss his cheek, and smile for what seems like the thousandth time that night.

"We have all the time in the world for that."

We sit in silence for a few minutes before he speaks.

"You love me. Real or not real?" _Our old game. _It breaks my heart to have it brought up, but in another way, it makes me laugh because we haven't mentioned it in months.

"Real," I say, before kissing him again.

**Thank you so much for reading! I hope this wasn't terrible. I was watching a Josh Hutcherson movie while writing this and every time he popped up on screen, I felt like I had to look away! **

**Thanks again for reading! Please let me know how I did!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys! Okay, so I read through this three different times and I think I caught everything. But I'm also suffering from a nasty cold so my medicine may have impaired my judgment. **

**Thank you to all who reviewed, faved, and added my story to alerts! It means so much! Hope you enjoy!**

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><p>Years have passed and 12 has rebuilt itself. The old families have moved back, and the light dusting of coal on everything is nowhere to be found. The air smells clean, unlike before. Instead of people working in the mines, our citizens work in the medical factory that supplies medicine to all of the other districts. They have since been renamed, the country has a whole been given a new name, but I don't bother to remember. I try to stay out of the spotlight; it had given me enough grief years ago.<p>

Each year, the new capitol, which is now what used to be District 4, hosts a celebration to remember the war. It lasts for three days, and efforts are made for every citizen to attend. It isn't mandatory or anything like that, but transportation and necessities are provided. Every year, Peeta and I receive an invitation, but I don't go. Peeta has gone once, but came home early and hasn't gone back. He told me it was because he couldn't be that far away from me. I believe him, but I also suspect it was something more. This year, I decide, when the invitation comes, we will go. I think I'm ready to handle it.

The train ride is long, and I spend most of it asleep with my head in Peeta's lap. It's soothing, the way he brushes his fingers through my hair. I can tell that we're in 4 before the train even stops; the compartment we're seated in becomes hot and muggy and the air is heavy. Peeta opens the window and I can see the sea; it's different than the one during the Quarter Quell. This one is not so clear; it looks sort of murky and darker. This one is more beautiful because it is natural. A part of me feels jealous that this is where Finnick and Annie learned to swim so well, and this is where Annie gets to spend her days. Then it hits me that Annie has no Finnick to spend her days with, only her son. I no longer feel jealous, only empty.

When it had been made common knowledge that Peeta and I were to attend the festival, we received a phone call from my mother asking us to stay with her. I hesitantly agreed and she was the first person to greet us off the train. She looks different than I thought she would. Her blonde hair is streaked with gray; there are wrinkles around the corners of her eyes. She looks tired, probably from spending so much time at the hospital. My mother meets us halfway across the station, smiling as she gets closer, but I notice it doesn't seem to match her eyes. Peeta speaks up first and shakes her hand.

"Hello, Mrs. Everdeen," he says, "You look well." That's not a lie, she does look well. _Just not what I expected._

"Thank you, Peeta. As do you." She lets go of his hand and turns toward me. "Katniss," she breathes. "My daughter." she reaches to hug me, and wraps both her arms around me, but I can't seem to hug her back. I awkwardly pat her back and pull away. I know I should try and be happier to see her, but I just can't. She is my mother, but a few scattered phone calls and an invitation to stay with her for a few days doesn't make up for abandoning her eldest not once, but twice. She takes both my hands and pulls them outward, looking me up and down.

"You look wonderful," she drops one of my hands and strokes her hand over my dark hair. "Smile for me, please?" I don't.

We walk through the rest of the large train station in silence. Peeta walks between my mother and me. I hold on to his hand tightly and I know I must be making him uncomfortable, but every few minutes he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. He asks my mother about the hospital, how the new government is doing, what she does in her spare time. She answers honestly and friendly, but never offers more information than necessary. As we enter the main section of the District, I notice the air is no longer heavy or thick, but it is still muggy and hot. There is a wonderful breeze coming off the salt water, but as I look out over the barriers, I see it is muddy and covered with reeds, rather than blue-green water. I stop walking, and I point out to the horizon.

"Is that not the ocean?" I ask. "Where did the water go?" My mother shields her eyes from the late afternoon sun and grins.

"That's the marsh. It comes in with the tides. Right now, it's low tide." I walk over to what I assume is a fence, though it only comes up to my hip, and there are only three metal pipes about six inches apart that separate me and the water. I rest my hands on it and I see there are tiny crabs and bugs sifting their way through the mud. It makes me wonder if there are things like this at the bottom of my lake back in 12.

"How often do the tides change?" I'm kind of enthralled; I haven't ever seen anything like this. It's almost prettier than the ocean is.

"About every six hours or so." I make Peeta promise to come back with me later so I can see it at high tide.

My mother leads us to a small cottage that I can tell used to be a bright blue, but has since turned gray. It is weathered and beaten down with a small front porch, with a Dutch door that leads inside. Once we enter the house, it opens to a small living room with yellow walls and a cream colored ceiling. The tiny couch is off-white, made with wicker. The tables and chair matches the couch, and there is a small television in one corner. On the back wall of the living room, there is a large window that looks out onto the beach. I desperately want to go for a walk, but I can tell by looking at Peeta that his leg is hurting from traveling.

"Come," my mother says, "your room is this way." I take my bag from Peeta because he's sort of limping now, and he smiles gratefully. Our room is painted the same yellow the living room is, but the ceiling is with dark wooden beams. It's tiny, with a lot of light. The bedspread is a light teal, not to my taste, but it fits with the beach theme. Mother stands in the doorway while Peeta and I sort our things.

"Do you need anything else?"

"No," Peeta and I both chorus. "Thank you, though." Peeta says. She moves quietly into another room and I sit down on the bed and sigh heavily.

"Feeling alright?" He asks while he's hanging up some clothes he's brought along.

"I feel fine. I'm just tired. Are you alright?"

"I'm good. My leg aches." He finishes unpacking and comes and lies next to me. "I think a nap sounds like a great idea. We have a busy night ahead." I curl into his side and bury my face into his shirt.

"Don't remind me." He laughs lightly and rubs circles into my back.

"You wanted to come."

"Don't remind me." I reply, shutting my eyes, but he can't tell.

When we wake up, the sun is setting outside the window. Peeta is still asleep, so I gently untangle myself from him to find out the time and see where my mother is. She's sitting on her sofa, reading a book on new medicines. I startle her and she jumps as I take a seat in the chair across from her.

"I didn't hear you come in. Always the huntress, hm?" She closes her book and looks at me. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," I answer truthfully. "Your house is nice," I comment, looking around.

"Thank you," she replies. "I enjoy it." We sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until she starts speaking again. "Katniss, I'm sorry I didn't come back to 12."

"Mother, please don't."

"Katniss, it's rare that I speak to you, and I don't think I can tell you this over a telephone call. Please listen?" I don't respond because that's the nicest answer I can give. She continues. "There was just too much to face back home. You no longer needed me there. In fact, you've never really needed me, have you?" I only look at her. "You're much stronger than I ever will be, Katniss." I don't think I have the words she's expecting me to say so I move my eyes to look at the painting above her head.

"Here," she begins, "I can bury myself in work. It's rare that I'm home. It makes it easier to forget all that I have lost. Don't mistake me not coming home for not loving you. Please know that I am so, so proud of you, no matter what."

"I get it," I say, although I really don't. I don't think I'll ever understand why she does what she does. I let her words sink in for a few moments before I tuck my anger away. I can't be angry at what she's done. I've only ever been in her position once, and that's when Peeta hit the force field, but he came back to me, thanks to Finnick. _Finnick. What if I see Annie tonight? _I guess the panic is showing on my face because my mother interrupts my thoughts.

"Nervous for tonight?"

"No, not nervous, I'm just dreading it." It's the truth. It's not nerves that are keeping me on edge; it's the sinking feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

"I can understand that." Nodding, I stand to go wake Peeta and get ready.

"May I do your hair when you're dressed?" I think about it. But it reminds me too much of the day of the first Reaping, then the photo-shoot with all the wedding dresses. This adds to the feeling of dread in my stomach.

"No, I don't think so." Her face drops, but she quickly recovers.

"Just thought that I would ask," she smiles sadly. "I have to be at the hospital soon." She stands. "Have fun tonight." I smile as I walk past her.

Peeta and I get ready together. He looks wonderful in a pair of black dress pants and a light blue button down shirt. He puts on a black sports coat after he ties his shoes. I wear a white dress that's a little too short for my liking, but it's the only dress I brought and I don't want to borrow one of my mother's. I force my feet into some black heels and brush my hair out. It has finally grown back to its original length, half way down my back, but I've noticed it will never be as thick as it once was. I'm looking at myself in the mirror when Peeta wraps his arms around me from behind.

"You look stunning," he murmurs against my neck. I turn around and lock my arms around his neck.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"You can, you just don't know if you want to." I scowl because he's right. "But you don't have to if you don't want to. We can go for a walk instead, if you like. Do anything your heart desires."

"I think we should go, but we can leave at any time, right?"

"Of course," he replies, kissing the top of my head. "But are you _really _sure you want to go? Because I think of about ten thousand other things to do," his hands trail across my back to my buttocks and across the front of my dress.

"Peeta," I say, grinning, "We are going to be late."

He begins to unzip my dress. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll make it fast."

"Please don't call me that while you're doing taking off my clothes. You sound like Haymitch."

It turns out we are a little late for the party at the main city building, but no one seems to notice. We walk from room to room, trying to stay under the radar, but it's impossible when you were once the face of a rebellion. My jaw begins to ache after what seems like the four thousandth picture of the evening, but I just keep on smiling. It might be the expensive champagne, or maybe the activities Peeta and I did before leaving the house, but the smile won't seem to leave.

Peeta leaves my side to get us drinks and I am pulled into a too-rough hug by a tall woman in a red dress. She smells a bit like pine, and a bit like strong alcohol, I assume this is why she's hugging me. "I knew you would come eventually. What made you come this year? Pregnant? Married?"

"No, none of the above, but nice to see you, Johanna."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We all thought you would never come to one."

"I thought I would see what it was all about. Do you come every year?"

"Nope, this is my second year. It's a good excuse to get good drinks and good food." I'm glad to see Johanna, glad to know she's alright. Her hair has grown back to her shoulders and her eyes are glazed over.

"How have you been?" I ask, wondering how long Peeta is going to be.

"Fine, fine," she says. "Finally got back home." She looks at her near empty glass and squints at it. "Oh, look! I'm almost out of my drink. Maybe I'll find you later." I wonder how much she's had but I decide it's better not to ask because knowing her, she would probably punch my lights out.

Peeta finally returns after what seems like forever. "What took you so long?" I ask, I sound like I'm accusing him of a crime. I don't mean to, it just comes out that way.

"I'm sorry. I ran into Annie and her little boy." _Oh._

"How is she?"

"She's great. She wants to see you." I don't know if I can handle that. If I were her, I would blame me for Finnick's death. I still think I could have saved him. A day doesn't go by when I don't think about it. I take my drink from Peeta and scratch my forehead.

"That's great she's doing well." I look over Peeta's shoulder and see her and a little boy approaching and I try and calm my breathing. As she gets closer, the little boy ducks behind her legs, but she pulls him out as she stops to speak with us.

"Hi, Katniss," she greets cheerily. "You look really wonderful." I smile, and she looks great as well. She's wearing an ocean blue dress and her long hair is pulled to one side.

"You look great, Annie." She looks down to her little boy, who is playing with a piece of rope, tying knots and then pulling them loose and doing it again. He looks up at her and I'm struck by how much he looks like Finnick. He has the same bronze hair and sea-green eyes his father had. At 4 years old, he's already tall and lanky. This child is really Finnick incarnate.

"Merritt," Annie says, "Say hello to Katniss. She's Peeta's friend that we were telling you about." He looks from his mother to Peeta and finally at me.

"Hi, Katniss," he says.

"Hello, Merritt." I blink back tears because this is harder than I thought it would be. I didn't expect Finnick's son to be here.

"Momma says you knew Daddy. And she told me that when you knew Daddy he tied knots in a rope because he was waiting for Momma."

"Yes," I say, "he did."

"I try to tie knots like him."

"You're doing a great job," I say. He holds out the rope for me to look at. "I don't think I could make a knot like that." Peeta and Annie laugh because they know it's the truth.

"Why not? It's easy."

"Knot tying is something you have to be really good at and I'm not." Merritt shrugs.

"I want a trident like Dad's too, but Momma says I'm too young. I have to wait 'til I'm ten." My eyes are brimming with tears and Peeta takes over the conversation.

"Ten's not so far off and if I'm right, you'll be just as good as your Dad was with a trident, maybe even better." Peeta winks and Merritt beams. Annie ruffles her son's hair and looks back at me.

"Will you come see us before you leave?" I don't understand how she isn't angry with me. I've done everything wrong. Peeta looks at me and very slowly I begin to nod.

"Yes, we'll make sure to come see you." Peeta says. Annie smiles widely and bends down to look at her son.

"Merritt, it's getting late. We should be getting home."

"Okay, Momma." She stands back up and hugs us both tightly. "Bye, Peeta. Bye, Katniss." He says to us as Annie begins to weave her way back through the crowd.

I'm trying my best not to cry but it's hard. I feel so guilty.

"Hey," Peeta says, "Tell me what's wrong."

"I feel so guilty. Finnick should be here with them. It's my fault he isn't."

"No, it's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself. Do you see how happy she is? Even Merritt is happy because he gets to try and be like Finnick. While he may not know his father, he'll know his memories and what he was like." I sniff and Peeta hands me a tissue from a nearby table. "Do you want to go home?"

"Not yet." Maybe Peeta is right, but the guilt is nagging at me. We move into another room and dance for a while before we're both tired. My feet hurt from my shoes and the alcohol is starting to make me sleepy. We gather our things and make our way around to tell the people we know good bye. We leave the main building and begin to head home. I wrap my arm around Peeta's waist as we walk.

"That was interesting," I say.

"Yes," he says, kissing the top of my head. "Life is always interesting for us, isn't it?" I laugh without much humor.

"At least it's never boring." _Although sometimes I wish it was._

**It's kind of a crappy ending, and I had an ending where they ran into Gale, but it was even worse so I just ended up taking it out. I also chose the name Merritt because it means "star of the sea," I believe. Also, I know Johanna is kind of OOC, but she's kind of drunk so it kind of worked. I didn't just want Annie to be the only one there that they knew.  
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**Thanks so much for reading! Reviews are love!  
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	4. Chapter 4

**Hi! Okay, so I felt like I should probably clarify this. It's been about five and a half years since the end of the year, so Merritt is five. He may seem a little grown up, but with a mother like Annie, he has grown to be very self-sufficient. I also imagine that District 4 is the gulf coast of America, and they live somewhere in very southern Louisiana. I also used real places as inspiration so if anyone is curious, just ask and I'll tell you. **

**Also, I had a little bit of writer's block on this chapter, so I'm not completely satisfied, but I feel like it's the best I'm going to get within the next few days. Also, smut warning!**

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><p>On the second day of the trip, we skip the festivities to go and see Annie and Merritt like we had promised. My mother led us through town to a large dock a mile or two outside of the city center. She pointed to a gray boat. "That's the ferry that will take you to Victor's Island. Will you be coming back tonight?"<p>

"Yes, Mother," I say. "We should be back tonight." She smiles at us.

"Well, have a good time." She waits for us to get settled on the boat before she leaves to go back to town.

"Ready to see them?" Peeta asks. I nod my head and we head off toward the island.

The houses here are large, built on stilts in case a storm or a flood passes through. Most of them are bright colors: greens, pinks, yellows. I realize most of these houses are filled; people are coming to look through their windows at us walking down their street. I keep my head down so I'm looking at the ground and watch Peeta's shoes as guidance. Peeta leads us down a side road, where the asphalt runs out and the road turns into very soft sand. It's almost like silt, with tiny shells crunching underneath our feet. The trees are tall and seem to intertwine as they reach up to the sky, with some sort of moss hanging from the branches. Finally, we reach a small turn off that is marked by a white picket fence.

When we're half way up the driveway, I stop to look at Annie's house. It's large and yellow, with white shutters and a porch on the first and second story. It's raised just as the other houses were, but this one is different. It seems much more personal. In the front yard, there are toys scattered around and a small bike is carelessly thrown on the bottom steps leading into the house.

Annie hugs us both before we're even through the doorway. She kisses both of our cheeks and we hear the sound of little footsteps running down the stairs.

"Momma, what are you doing? You're supposed to be getting ready to go swimming with me! Did you get lost again?" Merritt stops in the doorway that leads into the main hallway.

"I'm coming in just a second. Our friends came to see us." The little boy runs to Peeta and attaches himself to his leg. I guess Peeta and Merritt bonded well at the party last night.

"Hi, Peeta," he says. "Are you going to go swimming with us?" Peeta ruffles his hair and grins.

"How about I watch instead? I'm not a very good swimmer like you." Merritt's eyes bug out of his face.

"Don't know how to swim? Who doesn't know how to swim?"

"I guess it's only me," Peeta says. "But why don't you try and teach me?" I borrow one of Annie's swimsuits and we follow the family into the backyard. A little walkway leads to large body of water. It looks similar to the lake back in 12, but I notice its salt water and the waves are tiny.

"Annie, what's this?" After a few seconds, I don't receive a reply so I turn to where Annie is standing beside me. She's staring straight ahead, not blinking, just barely breathing. Annie clinches and unclenches her fists, curling her toes into the warm sand beneath her. "Annie?" I ask again. I say her name a little louder because she still isn't responding to me.

Merritt comes up and looks at me. "Momma's lost again. This happens sometimes when we come out here. I don't know where she goes." I wonder what Annie thinks of when she blanks out like this. Her time in the arena, Finnick, her short-lived marriage? Peeta comes over to where we're standing.

"What do you do when she's like this, bud?" He bends down the best he can with his prosthetic leg. Merritt takes his mother's hand and rubs slightly. I'm glad Peeta is here because I'm pretty useless. I just keep on standing there looking from Annie to her son and back to Peeta.

"Momma," he says, "Come back. Do you hear me? It's Merritt. We were gonna go swimmin' this afternoon. We're in the backyard of the house." Annie finally begins to blink. "Momma," Merritt says again. "Come on. Remember you taught me how to count backwards the other day? 25, 24, 23, 22, 21, 20…" A smile flashes across her face and she hums, shaking her head slightly. "There you go, Momma." Annie takes a few deep breaths and looks at Merritt.

"Let's go swim," she says, her eyes still sad, but she's smiling. It takes her a few more minutes to get back to normal, but when she does, it's like nothing ever happened.

Merritt finally convinces Peeta to get into the water with him, but he never goes farther in than his waist. My heart breaks a little when I watch Peeta with the little boy. I know Peeta wants children, the subject has been brought up several times, but I'm still not sure that's something I can give to him. Yes, the world is completely different now- there are no games, no oppressive government, but what kind of parents would we be? We are murderers.

I know I'll never fully recover from what has happened in the last years of my life, and neither will Peeta. He still has his episodes, but they're never as bad as that first time. What will I do when if we have children and Peeta isn't able to control himself? _Don't worry, children, Daddy was just trained for a while to kill Mommy. _The chances of that happening are almost non-existent, but the memory of my neck being crushed still haunts my dreams every few months.

On the other hand, though, if Annie can be a parent and raise a child as wonderful as Merritt, I think anything in the world is possible. Peeta smiles at me as he throws Merritt into the water. Annie comes to sit beside me on the blanket.

"He's good with him." She says, pulling her hair back.

"Yes, he is." I reply.

"Do you two ever think about having children?"

"I know Peeta does, but I don't think I can." Annie waves as Merritt yells to make sure she's watching him dive under the waves.

"I didn't think I could either, to be honest with you, Katniss. After what happened, after losing Finnick, it was tough. I tried to think of other options, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything. When Merritt was first born, I cried every day because I knew Finnick should be here to see his son.

"But as Merritt got older and stronger, I started to see more of Finnick in him. His eyes, his face, the way he acts. Finnick lives on through Merritt and that's what keeps me going. There's always a silver lining. Just remember that."

I realize the five years have been good to Annie. She's still beautiful, still bedraggled, but she has a light around her that I hope never fades. We stay until sunset and head back to my mother's house. On the last day, we spend it together exploring the district. Peeta and I sit on a bench near the marsh and I lean my head against his shoulder.

"This has been fun," he says.

"Yes," I murmur, watching the tide slowly fill the marsh.

"But I'm ready to leave."

"Me too. Let's go home." And we do.

Home is the same, Peeta and I do the things we always do. Rumors have started that we're married and that's why we attended the festivities. I see the articles in the newspapers, there were even a few specials on the TV, but those were quickly turned off. After all these years, I still don't get why the public still cares about us. There are other things people should be concerned about. But for some reason, the idea of marriage is still bugging me. I know Peeta would like to be married, even though he never pushes the subject or brings it up. I know it's something I'll have to do for myself, but I decide to hold off for a while because I'm afraid he'll think I'm only asking because of the papers.

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><p>It's half way through December when we get our first heavy snow. It's the kind of snow that sticks and piles up and creates havoc for everyone. I wake up early and try to get out of bed quietly, but Peeta wakes too easily and holds me back down. His face is buried in his pillow and it's hard to hear him.<p>

"Where y'going?"

"Hunting, go back to sleep." I take his hands from around me and kiss the back of his head.

"Stay until I fall back asleep?" I lie back down beside him until I hear his breathing even out. I don't even make it outside to realize that hunting is out of the question. The snow has drifted up at least ten feet and I can't make it down my back stairs. I hope Haymitch is alright, it's going to be impossible to check on him for the next few days. I quickly shut the door and head back into my kitchen. I clean a little, attempt to make some coffee, but nothing turns out quite like I want it. I think about rearranging the living room furniture, but I don't want to wake Peeta just yet. We had a restless night.

I decide to sit in the living room, but I become restless. This is why I don't like snow. It keeps me trapped inside my house, it keeps me bored. I don't do well with bored. While I'm lying underneath an old quilt in the living room, I decide today is a good day to bring up the subject of getting married. I try to follow a recipe for Peeta's favorite cinnamon rolls, but after several attempts I realize it's no use. All I'm left with is a huge mess.

Peeta wonders into the kitchen and he kind of grimaces then smiles as he takes in the flour in my hair, the lump of dough on the counter, the eggs halfway in the trash.

"Were you baking?" He asks me, raising an eye brow and picking up the lump of dough.

"I was trying to, but it wasn't working out."

"Why?" He sets the dough back down, then brushes his hands on his pants. He moves to where I'm seated on the counter and brushes the flour off my cheek.

"Well, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something." Peeta pulls his hands away from my face and puts his fingers into a pile of sugar on the counter. He licks his fingers and looks at me expectantly. "Do you think about us being married?" I ask. Peeta just blinks and reaches for more sugar.

"Sure. But really, aren't we already kind of married, in a way?" I shrug my shoulders and he waits for me to continue.

"I mean, don't you think about it being official?" I can tell he's trying to figure out why I've brought this up. To be honest, I don't know why I chose today, but it just felt right.

"Where's this coming from?"

"I was just thinking. And I know it's something you'd like. And I want to make you happy."

Peeta leans against the counter that's across from me. "Don't do it just to make me happy, Katniss. I'm happy right where we are now. You know that." He smiles at me and moves to get some paper towels to start cleaning up my mess.

"No, Peeta. I'm not doing it just for you. I'm doing it for us. I really want to be married to you. Officially."

"Is this why you were trying to bake?" My cheeks flush red.

"Yes," I say. "It was."

"Okay, Katniss," he replies, coming to stand in front of me where I'm perched on the counter. He places his hands on either side of me and grins. "We'll get married. Officially." A weight is lifted off my shoulders and I reach up to kiss his lips. His lips leave mine, leaving a trail across my jaw and down my neck. One hand reaches for the hem of my shirt and his other one reaches to brush my nipple.

"Peeta," I manage, "we're in the kitchen."

"So? The kitchen is a good a place as any to celebrate." I can't argue when he pulls my shirt over my head and trails his fingertips across my breast bone. His hand is still sticky from where he ate the sugar earlier. Lips trail after his hands and he smirks up at me. "You taste sweet."

Peeta is already shirtless from where he had gotten out of bed, so I trace a circle around his navel. I squirm as his lips move lower, to my right breast then my left, and back up to my lips. I grip the waist of his pants and pull them down until they pool around his feet. I begin to stroke him, firm then soft, and then I brush my thumb over the tip. Peeta jerks into my hand and makes the soft whimpering noise he always does when he's close. "Stop," he says, grinning. "You're way too good at that."

Peeta lifts me slightly to pull my pants off. I no longer feel embarrassed as I once did. This is something natural, something that makes me feel beautiful and human. It's hard to find something that does that. I sigh as he easily slips one finger in, curling it. "More, Peeta, please," It sounds like I'm begging, but I can't bring myself to care. He adds another finger, and I instinctively rock my hips against his hand, his thumb finding the nub that makes me forget where I"m at. My head falls back against the cabinets with a bang and I hear Peeta laugh under his breath. He pulls his fingers out of me and I whimper at the loss of contact.

I'm not left alone for long, though, because his erection is pressed against my opening and Peeta rests his forehead against mine. "Ready?" He asks. I nod and press my lips against his. He pushes in inch by inch and I sigh. He's moving too slowly for my taste so I push my hips toward his to hurry him along. It feels too good to go this slow.

"You feel so good," he pants. Peeta sets a steady rhythm and within a few minutes my walls are fluttering around him. I grasp at the blonde curls at the nape of his neck and whisper his name against his neck as the walls finally break. Peeta thrusts a few more times and reaches his release as I rub his lower back.

Our breathing finally evens out and he pulls back and looks at me. "So happy," he says, brushing the hair out of my face. I smile widely because I feel the exact same way.

So when the snow thaws out three days later, and Peeta and I have had our own celebration with Haymitch, who managed to survive the blizzard, we walk to the main government building and apply for the marriage license. It's not really necessary, but it's worth it when I see the way Peeta beams every time he sees it.

**Like I said, I'm not completely satisfied, but this is probably the only time I'll have to update between now and next week. School starts :(**

**Hope you enjoyed! Reviews are always awesome!** **Happy New Year!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update. School is killer! I hope this makes up for it. I never thought so many people would be reading this! Thank y'all so much for reviewing, favorit-ing and adding this story to your alerts!**

**This is probably the last chapter, unless I get requests to do more.** **Hope you enjoy! **

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><p>I'm out hunting when I first feel it move. At first I think the lunch I ate isn't settling well, so I rest for a minute then continue to check the snares I had set the previous day. After a few minutes, I feel it again which makes the lunch I had <em>really<em> not settle and it comes back up. I try to make a list in my head again to fight off the feeling of panic that's coming on fast and strong. _My name is Katniss Mellark. I'm in the woods of District 12, which has been renamed. I am completely safe. Peeta is waiting at home, probably baking one of my favorite desserts. It is just a baby moving inside me. _After all these years, I think, I'm back to making lists in my head.

The list doesn't do much to calm me down, but it does edge away the pang of nausea that the movement has caused. I sit down on the rock that I used to meet Gale at, and try my best to put my head between my knees. _It's just a baby, just a baby, I tell myself. It's a creation of Peeta and I and it's going to be beautiful. _After a few minutes I'm recovered enough to gather my things and head back to Victor's Village.

When I arrive home, Peeta is not there, which I'm kind of thankful for. I hate to let him know how much being pregnant makes me panic. It's something that makes him so happy and I can't stand to ruin it with emotional and mental scars. I draw a bath, frowning as I look down at my slightly swollen stomach. I now truly look pregnant. I knew this moment would come, I'm almost five and a half months along, but it still makes me scowl.

Being pregnant is rough. I've never worried about my figure, it's not something I care about. But these past few months make me feel awkward, like I don't know my body. I'm absolutely used to knowing everything. I know every scar, every mark, and every freckle. Now my stomach is beginning to change and grow new scars that I'm not used to seeing. Peeta says I'm beautiful, but I mostly just feel like I don't know what I'm doing.

Being pregnant also terrifies me; there is a person growing inside me. My fears never leave my mind as I think about what if I do something wrong and it hurts the growing person, what if something goes wrong with the new government and they take my child away? There are no more Hunger Games, but still, the very thought sends me into shakes and I begin to hyperventilate. The only person I'm sure I've ever loved the most was Prim, and she was like my child, and then she was ripped away from me. This memory is something I'm sure I'll never get over.

I get out of the bath and spend time braiding my hair, noticing that it has gotten thicker. As I get dressed, I become frustrated because the shirt I want to wear is now too small. I end up giving up and dressing in a pair of soft black pants and an overly large sweatshirt. I slam all my drawers and doors as I make my way downstairs to try to find something to occupy my time.

When Peeta comes home, I'm in a bad mood and he can tell. He tries to cheer me up by offering to bake me anything I want, suggesting my favorites, but it only results in me being snarky. Peeta is a trooper, just smiling whenever I give a snide comment, and after he plays with my hair for a while, goes to cook dinner. It's a simple dinner, but one of my favorites and Peeta has also baked extra cheese buns for me to eat. I gorge myself until I feel like I couldn't possibly hold any more food, and for a second, it's almost like being back in the Capitol.

Afterward, we go upstairs, and Peeta sketches a few things while I try and read a book. For what seems like the five thousandth time, I become frustrated and throw my book down.

"I'm going to bed," I say, pulling back the covers and crawling under them. I hear Peeta hum quietly and do the same. He doesn't reach me for me, and that makes me hurt. I understand he's probably just giving me space, but I don't want it, as much I as I act like I do. I turn over and lay my head on his chest.

"Do you want to talk about what's wrong, Katniss?" He asks me quietly, smoothing my hair. I sigh heavily.

"It moved."

"What moved? You mean the baby?"

"Yes," I say. "I felt it when I was out in the woods." He waits for further explanation and I wait for a few minutes before it comes out. "It terrifies me, Peeta. What if I grow to love it and it's taken away from us, just like everything else? What if I never love this…baby?" I see him smile for a second, because he knows it's the first time I've ever called it a baby out loud. But then his smile disappears and he runs his free hand over his face.

"I know that this is hard for you. But haven't we come all these years to finally have something to enjoy and love unconditionally?" _I have loved unconditionally only once, and that was Prim, _I think to myself. But I take a moment and I realize I love Peeta unconditionally and maybe, just maybe, he's right. I roll over on to my back, but I keep Peeta's hand intertwined with mine. The silence around us is deafening and I take a deep breath.

"It's kicking now, would you like to feel?" It's rare Peeta feels my stomach. He knows I'm not the biggest fan of being touched all the time, and up until this point, it's been a very small bump, so it's been useless. I catch him staring at it, sometimes though, when he thinks I'm not paying attention. But that's almost impossible, with my hunter's senses. I hear him inhale and he sits up.

"Are you sure?" I respond by taking his hand and placing it near the middle of my stomach. I push down slightly and sure enough, the child responds by kicking back. When I visit the doctor, he tells me we can find out the sex, but I haven't even thought about that. I know Peeta wants to know desperately, but he won't unless I do. Peeta's face lights up like I haven't seen before. He's grinning from ear to ear and he places both his hands on my stomach. I smile in return because, like usual, Peeta is correct. Bringing a child into this world might not be so bad.

A month and a half goes by and I balloon in size. It's impossible for me to hunt now, forbidden by the doctor and Peeta. I can't stand sitting around the house, though, so most days I go to the bakery with Peeta, or I make sure Haymitch is still living. I know he's excited for the baby, though he won't say it outright. The closer we get to the due date, I notice the less he drinks. I think it's because he's worried he might have to jump into action if no one else is around. _But personally, _I think, _hell will freeze over before Haymitch has anything to do with the delivery of my child. _

Peeta and I find out it's a girl and Peeta is delighted. He begins frosting cookies in pink icing, and sets out on painting one of our rooms in a light yellow. I'm happy he's so ecstatic, but finding out the sex sends me into a fit of hysteria I haven't seen in a few weeks. I end up locked in our room, and it takes Peeta three hours just to talk me into unlocking the door. Once he enters, I begin to bawl uncontrollably and he holds me until I fall asleep.

When I wake up, it's the middle of the night and I'm still dressed in my clothes from the day. I'm uncomfortable, but Peeta is still holding me the best he can since I'm lying on my side and it looks like I have a huge ball under my shirt. I watch his face for a few minutes and notice he still looks almost as young as he once did. There are lines around his eyes, wrinkles around the corner of his mouth, but his hair is still thick and falls in golden waves.

I nudge him gently because we both need to change into pajamas. He slowly blinks his eyes open and smiles at me.

"Hi," he says, brushing my hair back. "Alright?"

"Yes," I reply, leaning up to kiss him. "Did I scare you earlier?"

"You did," he admits, "I'm just glad you're okay now." We change into our pajamas and lie back down, but my stomach growls too loudly. I realize I haven't eaten since lunch, and that's not a good thing, but I'm just so tired and drained from earlier. Peeta laughs lightly.

"I'll go fix you something to eat, okay?" He has to wake me up to feed me.

We're about two weeks away from the due date when I feel Peeta leaning over my stomach. I don't move because I'm curious about what he's doing. He places both his hands on my large stomach and begins to whisper. "Hello, little one," he says sweetly, "I think you can hear me. It's your Daddy. You should probably be here soon." He stops for a minute as the little girl kicks to the sound of his voice. She seems to move more when he speaks, which still makes me worried. He grins as he feels her foot press against my stomach, not knowing how it really feels. "We're going to love you so much, no matter what your Mother and I are like. You're going to be so perfect and I can't wait to meet you." I feel tears spring to my eyes so I squeeze them shut tightly.

"Katniss?" Peeta questions. "Did I wake you?"

"No," I reply. "She kicked hard and that woke me up." He smiles at me and then my stomach.

"Sorry," he says, sheepishly. "I was talking to her."

"I didn't hear you," I lie. He chuckles as he lies back down beside me.

"You're such an awful liar, sweetheart."

Three weeks and two days later I'm cleaning Haymitch's house because I've already cleaned mine and I'm so impatient I'm about ready to jump off a cliff. This child is late, late, late, and though it is only April, it is far too hot for my liking. Peeta tries to calm me down, but it only results in things being chucked at his head. So he and Haymitch sit and play chess while I scrub the filthy counters.

I'm standing in the living room dusting the mantle when I feel my water break. "Go time," Haymitch says, beginning to clean up the game.

I stand frozen in place, trying to make a list in my head so I'll stay calm. Peeta slowly stands and crosses the distance to where I'm standing and places his hands on my shoulders.

"Katniss," he says, "breathe." I gulp in air while Peeta gathers our things and we eventually arrive at the doctor's office. The process goes surprisingly fast, and I don't really remember much about it. I was panicking and crying and screaming. To say I was a complete mess would be an understatement. She finally arrives at 9:09 in the evening and we agree to name her Eden, a name we found in a book from the ancient times. Peeta hands her to me and it's a feeling of instant calm.

She's so tiny, so fragile that I'm afraid I'll break her. Her eyes are the same bright blue as Peeta's, but she has my dark hair. I've never seen anything so beautiful and as I look up to Peeta, I realize we're both crying. He reaches his fingers out and she wraps her small fingers around his one large one.

"Perfection," he says, and I couldn't agree more.

Eden grows and grows, possibly being the most sheltered child in the history of the world. Peeta doesn't let her feet hit the floor until she's two and a half, although surprisingly, I am much more lenient. She has my olive skin, my hair color, my body shape, but Peeta's eyes. She is my child through and through, although while only three, she can set snares and move through anything without making a sound. Eventually I'll teach her to shoot an arrow, but as for now, I prefer her staying in the kitchen attempting to decorate sugar cookies with Peeta, which really only results in icing _everywhere. _

She and Haymitch also have a special bond; he remains sober for days at a time to be with her. He tells her stories that don't make sense, but she believes them, and comes home and repeats them while we just shake our heads. She loves feeding the geese and running after them, imitating their squawks and trying to fly.

It is exactly two days after her third birthday when Peeta suggests we have another one. The blood drains from my face and I grip the door to keep from falling over. I'm perfectly satisfied with one. He follows me from the kitchen, to the living room, to our room, to the bathroom where I finally close the door in his face.

"It's okay, Katniss," he says to the door. "You can't hide forever!" I huff and stay in the bathroom until I can't anymore and face him.

"No," I say firmly. "Not another child." He just smirks and we go to bed. Peeta is relentless in his quest for another child and I don't last two weeks before I give in. We conceive much faster than I thought we would, and while Peeta is over the moon, I only feel dread, but that soon lessens. The nine months this time is easier, but not by much. I still have episodes of panic, but then I see Peeta on the couch with Eden in his lap and it quickly subsides.

We don't discuss names until the child is born, even though we know it will be a boy. Eden is excited to have a sibling, although I'm not sure she truly understands what it means. Peeta is also excited to have a son, although he loves his daughter more than anything. I watch from the hallway as Peeta paints our empty room a light blue, while Eden is allowed to make a few splashes of paint in one corner. Everything Peeta paints is perfect, because it is so flawlessly done, but so Eden's corner because of how excited she is. She tells us almost every day how she already loves her brother. Peeta leaves the room with covered in paint, because Eden thought it would be funny to throw her brush around the room. It's a fun time getting red, blue and yellow paint out of her black hair.

In the middle of the night on a cold February evening, we bring Asher into the world. Peeta and I choose this name because it means 'happy,' and also because Eden helped us pick it out. He is bigger than his sister was, and cries louder than she did. Asher has blonde hair, and I can tell already he has the gray eyes of The Seam that no longer exists.

Haymitch brings Eden into the room, where she holds both Peeta and Haymitch's hands. Her blue eyes are big, curious about her new sibling. She lets go of Haymitch and reaches for the new baby. I watch her closely, and she touches him softly and tentatively at first, and then smiles. "He looks like Daddy," is all she says.

Having a new baby at home with a three year old who is too curious is difficult. She cries the first time Peeta scolds her for being too rough, although his voice is so gentle with her. I think it's because it's usually me who tells her what she's doing wrong. He almost cries as she begins shouting that Peeta no longer loves her like he did. I have to shut the door to the nursery because it's heartbreaking to watch. But the pair must work it out because when I finally venture downstairs, she's sitting in his lap, having her favorite story read to her.

Where Eden is me, Asher is exactly Peeta. He is big for his age, and at only two and a half, he is able to charm a room of strangers into falling in love. He worships the ground his elder sister walks on, never arguing with her, trying to copy everything she does. Eden still slinks around, silent, but Asher is the opposite. You can hear him tromping around in the house from outside, but he is so happy all the time. He truly fits his name.

On a summer day, we all go to the meadow, with Eden leading the way at six years old and Asher following not too far behind. Peeta and I walk hand in hand, laughing as our son tries to run through the tall grass and falls because although he is big, his legs are just not long enough. Our daughter stops to pull him up and tell him, "don't cry, brother."

I am so proud of these children; they are the face of innocence. And though Eden knows there were once horrible games, she does not know the extent we played in them. Eventually she will know the full story and I hope she will understand, though I don't know if I could if I was her.

Peeta and I chase our children for a while until I grow tired and sit, but Peeta continues to run after them. After a few minutes, he comes and lounges with me. I rest my head in his lap and he brushes his fingers through my hair. I smile at him and Eden and Asher until he leans down and kisses me lightly.

"Perfection," he says, echoing his sentiment on the day Eden was born.

"I agree," I say, laughing as Asher crashes into Peeta and Eden into me.

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm actually not religious at all, so when I say a book from ancient times, I mean an old baby name's book, not the Bible. Also, since I'm only 17, I've never been pregnant, so I'm only going off my mom's advice, and my two currently pregnant cousins. **

**Reviews are always amazing. It's been a rough week so they would really cheer me up. Thank you so much for reading!  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! This is for sure the last chapter. I felt this was a pretty good way to end it, but I'm also not completely satisfied. I will probably be publishing more Katniss/Peeta stories in the future, if anyone is interested.**

**I hope you guys enjoy this! It's been a blast to write. :)**

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><p>When Eden is twelve, we sit her down to tell her about the games in detail. She's a mature child, and Peeta thinks the right time has come. Haymitch, who is getting on in age, but still managing, comes to take Asher to town for a day of who-knows-what. We all sit around the island in the kitchen, with the book we made so many years ago between us. I carefully slide the yellowed pages in front of her and her blue eyes search ours for answers.<p>

"Mom?" She questions, looking at me. Before I can answer, she turns to her father. "Dad?" He smiles sadly.

"We know you learn about the history of the games at school, but do you mind telling us exactly what you know?"

"Well," she begins, brushing her dark hair back, "The old government put them on as punishment, right?" I nod and she continues. "Kids had to compete until there was only one left and they were really horrible."

Peeta nods. "Anything else, sweetheart?"

"And you and Mom basically stopped them." She bites her lip. "That's all I know." I know they don't really go into detail in the lower school, but I find it hard to believe she doesn't know more than that. She has plenty of friends who go to the upper school who know much more than I would like. _I guess that's what happens when you used to be the Mockingjay._

Peeta runs his hand through his hair. "Alright, that's fine. Your mother and I want to tell you the full story before you hear it from anyone else." He turns his head and looks at me for confirmation and I take his hand.

"Yes, we think that's best. But we also think the best way is for you to look through this," I gesture to the book, "and ask your own questions and we'll answer them, alright?" Eden looks at the bound pages in front of her and carefully opens the cover.

The first page is the description of the Reaping, it tells about everything from Effie(she giggles at the pink wig), to my mother's blue dress, to Prim's ducktail. Peeta has drawn all of these things in such perfect detail it's almost like being back on that horrible day. Eden runs her hands over the pictures and carefully reads the paragraphs.

"You volunteered for Aunt Prim?" She asks quietly, as if she doesn't know if the question she's asking is alright.

"I did," I answer. "She was too young, too fragile."

"And Dad was just picked?"

"Yes," he says, one handing starting to drum a rhythm on the granite.

"But you had older brothers, didn't you? Why didn't they volunteer for you?"

He clears his throat before he answers and his face turns solemn. "One was too old, and the other, we just weren't that close." Eden blinks a few times, as if she's taking in all the information.

"I would have volunteered for you, Dad." She says, without looking up. "If I could have." She turns the page without waiting for us to reply. I see Peeta smile sadly from the corner of my eye.

"Don't say that," he says gently. "But you're very sweet, Eden." She reads about the Justice Building, how my mother, Prim, and Gale came to see me, telling me I had to come home. She reads about Peeta's father, and then stares at her own father for a moment before looking back down.

"Weren't you guys scared?"

"Terrified," I answer truthfully. "But I knew I had to do it."

"I even cried," Peeta says, with a hint of laughter to his voice.

"I would probably do that for Asher," she says. It makes me proud that she would do that for her brother, but the relief I feel that she will never know that feeling is incomparable. The next page she sees is the one with the colorful buildings of the old Capitol.

"Is this the old Capitol?"

"Yes," Peeta answers.

"It's ugly," she states bluntly. Eden giggles as she reads about the wonderful, rich food we ate on the train. "_You_ would describe the food." I laugh as she turns the page and sees the beautiful outfits Cinna had made. "You look so different, Mom." She points to the dress that shimmered when I moved. "You look like you're on fire."

"That's what they called her, 'Katniss, the girl on fire.'" Peeta states, squeezing my hand lightly. Eden continues through the book silently until it comes to the part where it discusses where Peeta teamed up with the Careers.

"Why?" She asks, looking at Peeta but pointing at the picture.

"Well," he sighs. "My only goal at that point was to protect your mother. And at that time, it was the best way."

"Haymitch was your mentor, wasn't he?" Eden asks, slightly nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Yes."

"Did he help you decide that?"

"Yes," he says, "It was our secret from your Mom."

A minute or two passes before Eden yelps out "Mom!" and looks at me sharply. "You threw those horrible things on Dad!"

"Well," I say, running my hands over my eyes.

"She did, but do you understand why?" Peeta answers before I have a chance to speak.

"I guess," she shrugs, "but I don't know if I would have if I was her. You're my dad, Dad."

"Yes, I am," he says calmly. "But your mom thought I was the enemy at the time. She's very smart like that; she was only doing what she thought was necessary."

Our daughter continues to flip until she discovers where Cato cut into Peeta's leg. I watch her face fall and I wonder if we're doing the right thing.

"Is that…is that where your fake leg comes from?" Eden doesn't look up from the book.

"No," Peeta replies, "that comes later." She nods and reads in silence until she comes to Rue's horrific death.

"You sang that to Asher and me when we were little."

"Yes, I did."

"Why did you do that for her, Mom? No one else would have." Her question wasn't one I expected, so I take a moment before I answer.

"She was so young. She reminded me of Prim, and she deserved it. It was the last thing she asked for before she died." Eden smiles at me.

"You're such a good person, Mom." I feel my eyes brim with tears so I close them tightly and take a deep breath.

"I'm glad I know who wins," she smirks, "but I thought there could only be one winner?"

"Another one of your mother's brilliant plans," Peeta says with a smile. Eden turns page after page and I wonder how she's taking all this in. She seems to be reacting well, but being my daughter, she hides her emotions well. She smiles at the pages about the cave, laughs at the part where my head begins to bleed ("That is _so _you, Mom!"), and exhales heavily when she reads I had to drug Peeta with the sleeping syrup.

"Mom," she says sharply. "That was mean! And dangerous! Dad said he didn't want you to go. Why did you do that? You were so mean to him." She sets the book on the counter in front of her and throws her hands out. "Dad is just _such _a good guy! I don't understand." Peeta laughs lightly and my forehead creases.

"I had to, Eden."

"She's right," Peeta says with a smile. "But I'm thankful she did, and you should be too, because if she hadn't, neither one of us would be here right now." She purses her lips and goes back to reading.

She doesn't say anything about the next few pages, just snorts when she reads the description of how loud Peeta was in the woods. "Dad, it's true. You're so loud. You and Asher both!" He laughs along with her. Eden doesn't offer much about the death of Foxface and I think it's because she worries about saying something that will offend her dad. After a few minutes, she simply states "it's too bad. She was clever."

Our daughter begins to tear up at the part about the Mutts and I reach to take the book away from her, but she pulls it out of my reach. "No, Mom. I want to keep reading."

"I think you've had enough for one day, Eden," I reply. "We'll look again some other time."

"No," she says, more strongly. "I'm not finished." She's almost as stubborn as I am, and there's not much more I can do. I consider leaving the room, but that's not fair to Peeta or Eden. She deserves to have both her parents telling her the story.

She doesn't tear up again, only looks up at both of us with her brilliant blue eyes.

"Dad, had you really loved Mom all those years?"

"Yes," he states, laying his arm around my chair. "All those years." Eden continues on her trek through time and smacks her hand against the table as she reads about the rule change being overturned.

"What!" She gasps. "How could they have done that? You guys made it_ all_ that way."

"The Games were horrible things, Eden. They never planned for us to both win." I say, and Eden turns the page and sees the way Peeta dropped his knife, but I loaded my arrow. She closes her eyes tightly and only opens them again when Peeta begins to speak.

"I gave up my weapon because even back then, I knew there was no life for me without your mom. And you know your mother, always so suspicious." She manages a smile at that and looks at me.

"So that's when you came up with the idea for the berries?" She asks me.

"Yes, and that's how we both made it out, which really upset President Snow." She reads the next pages without comment, only occasionally looking up at us and smiling. We've written a bit about Gale in the book, and I wonder if she's going to ask about him. Eden has met him only once, maybe twice, I can't really remember. She was about seven, and he had come to the district on business.

"Is this the same guy I met when I was younger?"

"Gale, yes," I say. "You met him when you were about seven."

"And he loved you, too?"

"He said he did."

"Did you love him too?"

"Not like your dad," I reply, looking at Peeta. He's looking at me the way he always has; the look that makes me feel blush and turn away, even after all these years. "Eden, do you want to take a break? We've been sitting here a long time. I think Haymitch and Ash should be home soon." Eden frowns.

"When will we finish?" I don't know the answer to her question, so I look at Peeta for help. I think the rest of the book should be kept until she's older- she knows as much as she needs to for now, in my opinion, but I think Peeta feels differently.

"We'll make you a deal. I know you think you're ready to hear the rest, but it's a lot to take in in such a short period. You know a lot, and you've taken it really well, but I think we should wait some time before you go on."

"But," she begins.

"Eden," I say, "you're not ready. I promise we'll look again soon."

I can tell she wants to say much more, but the look I'm giving her makes her stop.

"Alright," she sighs, closing the book and sliding back to us. I gently take the book and leave to put it back in its place. When I come back, she's icing cookies with Peeta. I move to stand behind them to watch, and she puts down the cookie she's currently holding. Eden pulls me forward so she's standing in between the two of us. She wraps her arms around us the best she can and tells us some of the greatest words I've ever heard. "I love you guys," she says, first resting her head against Peeta and then against me. I look at Peeta, who is smiling widely at me.

"We love you, too," Peeta says, and leans over to kiss my cheek.

"Yes, we do. Very much," I reply, taking a newly iced cookie off the sheet.

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><p>One year later, while Asher is at a friend's house, we sit on the floor of our living room around the coffee table. The book has made it's reappearance after Eden has turned 13.<p>

"Have you not learned about the Quarter Quell?" I ask, not sure if they mention them in the history of the Games.

"No," she says. "They only told us there were special games every twenty-five years, but didn't really go into detail. You guys were in it, right?"

Both Peeta and I nod our heads. She flips through until she gets to the second reaping.

"How did I know you would volunteer, Dad?" Peeta looks at Eden and grins.

"I don't think Haymitch would have made a good tribute, do you?"

"Probably not," she agrees. "Why did they do this though?"

"President Snow was an evil man," I say. "He wanted to punish the strongest of the country to remind the regular citizens how much we were at the government's mercy." She nods a few times, but I'm not sure she understands. We have made our children's lives easy, much easier than ours were. Our children are never hungry, Eden hunts with me for leisure, not out of necessity, and they have never experienced the horrible feeling of dread from reaping day.

Eden comes across a picture of Finnick. "Merritt," she says, "His dad?"

"That's right," Peeta says. Merritt is now slightly older than Finnick was when he died, and he looks just the same as his father did. Eden and Asher have come to see Merritt as an uncle of sorts. Him and Annie call weekly, always being sweet and charming, just like his father.

"Merritt really does look just like him." She grins. "Is Merritt like him? I've heard you talking to Annie saying he was."

"Exactly like him, right down to his voice." I say, leaning down to look at the picture Peeta has so carefully drawn.

"I didn't know Annie was called," she says. "I guess I didn't even know she was a Victor until now; I never really thought about it. How did she win her games?"

"She could swim the best when they flooded the arena." I reply, watching Peeta carefully. I still think Eden's too young to learn all this, but she hasn't brought learning anymore since we told her about our first games last year. Occasionally she'll ask Peeta or me questions about what she already knows, but doesn't understand, but never about knowing new information.

Eden points to Mags. "That's who volunteered for her?"

"Mhm," I hum.

"She was so old, though. How? Why?"

"She could make a fish hook out of anything," Peeta says quietly. "And she was an amazing woman. She died to save us all."

"She was, and she was Finnick's mentor during his games. Mags was pretty much his family."

"That's so sad." Eden replies solemnly, and turns a few pages. Her bottom lip begins to quiver when she realizes what had happened when Peeta hit the force field. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and I can't help but shoot him a sharp look that he hopefully takes as "I told you she wasn't ready!"

"Hey," he says softly. "Don't cry. Obviously I made it."

"Well, yeah, I know that. But still…it's hard to read about."

"I understand," he replies quietly. He kisses the top of her head and watches her carefully for the next few minutes.

"Johanna is kind of mean," Eden states. She's met her a few times before, but only briefly. I'm not sure Johanna has ever fully recovered, but I don't think any of us have. She reads in silence until the end, where the arena is blown up and we're left in mad chaos.

"Mom, as smart as you are, you're kind of oblivious sometimes." Peeta bursts out laughing and immediately covers his mouth with his hand.

"Excuse me?" I ask, glaring at the still-laughing duo.

"I'm not trying to be mean, but, during the first games you were kind of…always so suspicious and couldn't believe Dad wanted to help you, and then this time, the Gamemaker even gave you a clue and you didn't get it until you were almost threw with the Quell."

I'm not really sure what to say. I feel as though I'm being attacked. I've been through all this, and now my teenage daughter is calling _me_ out on being _oblivious_? My face must betray my anger because I see the color drain from Eden's face and she loses the smile from her face that looks so much like mine.

"Please don't be mad, Mom. I didn't mean it bad. I was just…I'm sorry." Peeta rubs her shoulder consolingly.

"It's okay, Eden," he says. "Why don't you go see what your friend Olivia is up to?" She closes the book and silently leaves to get her coat. Peeta waves goodbye as she walks out the door.

"Katniss, you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," I say, "It's perfectly okay to be demeaned by your child while telling her the story of the horrific and awful story about people dying by slaughtering each other!" I huff as I grab the book of the table and stomp up the stairs to put it in its hiding place. I hear Peeta following after me, so I leave the door open.

"You know she didn't mean it like that. It was just an offhand comment." He sits on the bed and watches me slam drawers just because I feel like it. I know I'm being ridiculous, but I can't help it. She doesn't understand; she doesn't have any reason to.

"She doesn't get it, Peeta."

"What do you mean? Of course she gets it."

"No, I don't think she does. She's never lived like we had to. She's just reading and making comments like it's no big deal." Peeta sighs and I stand at the foot of the bed with my hip pressed against the foot-board.

"Katniss, I love you very much, but will you listen to yourself? Of course she's reading it and making comments. What else do you want her to do? She's never lived like we had to because of what you've fought for- what we've all fought for. I have no idea what reaction you were expecting, but for me, she's doing exceptional. To me, the way she's taking this all in shows what a great job of raising her we've done."

"And besides, Katniss, you've even said yourself you're not always as self-aware as you think you are. Eden is your daughter; obviously she's going to remark about your personality traits. Think about it." Peeta finishes and rests his head against the pillows. He looks at me once more before shutting his eyes. I don't move from my position from the end of the bed and I exhale. I always hate to admit when Peeta's right. A few minutes pass and I'm still pouting.

"Figured out you're wrong yet?" Peeta asks with his eyes still closed, but with a smirk on his face.

"Shut up," I say, hastily leaving the room before he can get anymore satisfaction about being right.

* * *

><p>When Eden is fourteen, Peeta and I settle on to our bed with Eden in the middle. She has the book in her lap, and we're finally going to get to the full war. Eden does not know about Peeta's hijacking; only that he was taken by the Capitol for a while before he came back to 13. When the kids were little, he would have his moments, but after a few seconds of him holding tightly on to a chair, they would pass. Eden and Asher only watched, but never asked what was wrong.<p>

Eden is now almost as tall as I am, with dark hair that she wears in a braid occasionally. Her gray eyes are still as bright as they were when she was small. Now that she is older, she spends more time in the woods alone.

"So District 13 existed?"

"Yes," I say.

"But you weren't with Dad. Dad was in the Capitol, right?"

"Correct," he says.

"But Gale was with you, Mom?"

"Yes," I say again. Peeta laughs as our daughter's nose scrunches up.

"I know he was your best friend and all, but I prefer Dad."

"Me too," Peeta says, and Eden laughs. I shove his shoulder, but I find myself laughing, too.

"I think I do as well." I say.

"But Finnick was there?"

"Correct again," I say.

This time, I end up telling her most of the story rather than her asking questions. "You're so brave," she says. "You, too, Dad," she adds after a second. Although the last time we did this, her lip quivered when she read about Peeta walking into the force field, this time, she full out cries. It's not wracking sobs, or her not being able to breathe, but there is a stream of steady tears that don't seem to stop until we're finished.

The stream seems to grow as we near the end of the book, and the part where Peeta plants the Primroses really makes her come undone, so I quietly take the book from her hands and set it on the floor. Eden wipes her face on the back of her sleeve.

"Just so…" she babbles out. "Just so sad." I run my hands over her hair.

"Eden," I say, "Please don't cry. It's okay. Everything is alright." Peeta rubs her back and it seems we're both at a loss for what to do. After a few minutes, she's stopped crying, but she's still sniffling.

"All those people," she manages. "And you guys made it through. And Haymitch, too."

"Yes, we made it, and for the last eighteen or so years, we've had a pretty perfect life." Eden leans back against the pillows again and looks at us both.

"I'm really glad you guys are my parents," she smiles at both of us.

"Thanks," Peeta says. "I'm glad I get to be your parent."

I take a tissue from beside our bed, and gently wipe her face as I used to do when she was small. Unlike usual, Eden doesn't complain, just lets me clean her up.

"I feel pretty drained," Eden admits. "I think I'm going to take a nap now." She easily climbs off our bed and heads for the door.

"Sleep well," Peeta says with a smile.

"We love you," I call as she walks down the hallway toward her room.

I lie down on the bed after I hear Eden's door shut. "That was incredibly rough. I hope she's alright." I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. Peeta shifts so he's lying beside me and runs his thumb over my cheek.

"She's your daughter, she'll be perfectly fine."

"And she's _your _daughter, so she'll be perfectly fine." I reply, letting my eyes drift close.

"I think we did pretty well with kids, if I do say so myself." Peeta states, and I can tell he's grinning. He places his lips against mine once, twice, three times before he pulls back.

_Yes, _I think, _we have come so far, and have done extremely well._

**I hope this chapter was a good ending place for guys. I never thought so many people would be reading this story and it just really, really brightens up my day when I get an email someone new has reviewed, added this to their alerts or favorites. Y'all are awesome! **

**Reviews are always wonderful too! **


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